


The Solstice Again

by arioso_dolente



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Mostly Gen, OT3, Other, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 19:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arioso_dolente/pseuds/arioso_dolente
Summary: Aang always seems to get into trouble on the solstice.  This time he needs his friends to get him out of it.





	The Solstice Again

**Author's Note:**

> Something short and sweet for the season. This can either be read as Zuko/Aang/Katara OT3 or just very fluffy gen.

Aang was trying, he really was.

He was the hope of the world. The balance. The bridge between mortals and spirits. He was the Avatar, the one who had ended that brutal hundred-year war and had done the impossible; had done it and yet spared a life. He could do this.

He really, really couldn’t do this.

But he had to try.

“I really don’t think it’s that bad,” he said.

Zuko whirled on him. “What do you mean? Of course it’s that bad!” He stalked back over to study what was to him, clearly that bad, almost managing to trip over his ceremonial robes in the process. He snarled.

Aang winced. “Zuko—”

“Now Zuko,” said Iroh, his tone adopting that voice of long patience he only ever used on his nephew (and certain cultural ministers). “The people haven’t even had a proper festival like this since before the war. I’m sure they’re not expecting everything to be perfect. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Here, wouldn’t you like to try a cup of my new tapioca green tea blend? I think it will be a big hit in Ba Sing Se.”

Zuko glared at him. “I don’t need any tea!” He turned around and started berating the nervous officials, who were now shuffling out a different set of sample draperies.

“Oh dear,” said Iroh softly beside Aang. “I did try.”

Aang smiled ruefully. “Me too.”

Katara walked up beside them. “What’s Zuko getting so worked up about? He’s going to give himself a heart attack.”

Aang sighed and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Palace decorations for the Firebirth Festival. This is nothing, actually. You should have heard him going on about the catering.”

Katara wrinkled her nose. “A festival? That’s it?”

“Not just a festival,” said Iroh. “The Firebirth Festival is one of the most important of the entire year for the Fire Nation. It’s very symbolic. It always takes place on the winter solstice, which marks the point when the days lengthen again, returning the Sun Spirit’s light to the world.” He sighed. “The Fire Nation hasn’t had a proper celebration of this festival since before the war. Zuko’s father and grandfather never had much respect for the spirits.”

“It really is pretty great, Katara,” said Aang. “There’s usually dancing and fireworks and lots of food, including these special dumplings they only make at this time of year.” He frowned. “I just wish it didn’t have to give Zuko such fits.”

“My nephew has always had problems meeting his own expectations,” said Iroh. “His is still a very new reign, and he still needs time to settle more into it. He’s afraid of appearing as an ineffective ruler if this festival is not successful.” He looked sideways at Aang and Katara. “Of course that’s why he wants both of you there as well, to lend further support—”

“I can hear you talking about me, you know!”

Iroh shook his head. “Come, we’d better rescue the royal event planners.”

~*~

Aang and Katara wound up nervously trailing after Zuko as he continued to prowl around the royal banquet hall, fretting over the festival preparations. Aang’s fingers worried his string of prayer beads. Iroh seemed to have resigned himself to the inevitable and was reclining comfortably on some cushions nearby, drinking from a steaming china cup and chatting with some people Aang recognized as the royal caterers, who were proffering him various samples.

Katara had let herself be pulled aside by a nervous-looking palace servant, who had a messenger hawk on one shoulder and was unrolling a scroll to show her. Aang gulped, and jogged to catch up with Zuko.

“Zuko,” Aang said finally, when Zuko looked on the verge of another tantrum, this one over the specifications of the fireworks show that was planned over the royal palace. “I’m sure it’s going to turn out fine. Can’t you please try to rel—”

“Don’t tell me to relax!” snapped Zuko. “I don’t expect you to understand, Avatar, but I am under a lot of pressure right now. I’ve had to deal with attempted coups and assassination attempts and now Mai is seeing this—this _pastry cook_ , and doesn’t she realize that this is not a good time for her to be throwing my mistakes with her in my face and I need this to _work,_ because the people have had enough to deal with without their sacred festival getting screwed up by their screw-up of a Fire Lord. So don’t tell me it’s going to turn out _fine_ , Aang, I’ve had _enough_ of your foolish optimism for one—”

Zuko stopped, frozen at whatever look Aang had to have on his face.

It must be a good one, Aang thought absently. He hadn’t meant to let it get in the way of Zuko’s tirade; evidently this was one Zuko had been needing to express for a long time, never mind Zuko’s perennial gift for only doing so at the worst possible times. He just wished he didn’t have to be the one at the receiving end.

There was just something about Zuko. If Aang was perfectly honest with himself there had _always_ been something about Zuko, much as there had always been something about Katara. Oh sure, ever since he had woken from the iceberg, he’d made other friends too who’d helped ease the pain of losing everything in a hundred years. But really, it had mainly been Katara.

And Zuko.

When Zuko had turned his temper on him, suddenly Aang was three years ago, back during the war, when everything had been different and everything hurt. His own words rang in his mind: _Do you think we could have been friends too?_ He gasped for air.

“Aang.”

Aang blinked. There was a warm hand on his shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Agni, Aang, no. _I’m_ sorry.”

Zuko squeezed his shoulder and brought up his other hand to mirror the gesture. Suddenly his golden eyes were right in front of Aang’s, mesmerizing in their intensity. Aang’s heart fluttered. Somewhere in the last three years, Aang had grown. They were now the same height.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko was saying, and Aang came back to attention. “This whole situation with Mai and the coups and all the rest of it is in no way your fault. I had no right to take it out on you.”

Aang exhaled. Zuko’s eyes were still boring into him. “Thanks, Zuko. I—I know it’s hard for you.”

“Still not your fault,” said Zuko. “I’ll try to relax a little, okay Aang? It’s hard for me, but I am working on it.”

Aang smiled. “Thanks.”

Katara appeared at his elbow. “Aang, you should probably see this.”

Aang unrolled the scroll as he walked with Katara a little ways away from the hovering throng of royal event planners swarming Zuko. Zuko’s gaze followed him as he went, until his attention was captured by a question from an attendant. Under her breath, Katara said, “Wow, I forgot how good you are at the whole kicked-puppychick thing.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

She smiled that soft smile that never failed to make him weak at the knees. “I know. You never do. You just wear all your emotions on your face, is all. It’s not a bad thing.”

Aang shrugged awkwardly, then tensed as he read the scroll. “Angry spirits?” The scroll was from a village near Whaletail Island, where there were reports of missing livestock and destroyed shrines after nightfall.

Katara shook her head. “They don’t know, but they thought they should ask for the Avatar’s help just in case. Since it’s so near the solstice and all.”

Aang considered that. Angry spirits were certainly a possibility; the veil between the physical and the spiritual world was always thinnest on the solstice, and it wouldn’t be the first time a spirit crossed over at that time to express its grievances. “Well, I suppose I can go check it out. It shouldn’t take too long to get there on Appa.” He glanced back at Zuko, who was facing away from him, but whose ears he could tell were getting steadily redder.

Katara frowned. “By yourself? You’re not going to get stuck in the Spirit World like last time, are you?”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “That was one time. And I came back.”

“Still think I should go with you.”

Aang bit his lip and glanced at Zuko again, who was throwing his hands up in obvious frustration. “I would ask you to,” he said, nodding to the direction behind her, “but I’m worried about Zuko.”

Katara turned to watch the unfolding drama. “Yeah,” she said. “I suppose I can see what you mean.”

“And I’ll have Appa with me. He knows to come get you if I get in trouble.”

“Mmm . . .” Katara chewed her lip.

“Please?” he said. “I mean it, Zuko’s going to have a breakdown if we let him handle all this by himself. I know he has Iroh, but still.”

Katara sighed. “I know.” She smiled that perfect smile again. “He’s my best friend too, you know. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Aang nodded in relief and leaned in to peck her lips. As he made for Appa’s stable, Katara walked back over to Zuko, laying one slender arm on his shoulder. Zuko turned briefly to watch Aang leave.

~*~

Aang took a step in what turned out to be an unexpectedly deep snowdrift and winced as it soaked his leggings. Despite the time of year, the Fire Nation had been cool and rainy, as it never seemed to get cold enough there to snow, but Lhasa was a mountain village and snow was a constant part of the residents’ lives.

Oh, right. Not Lhasa; that had been the Air Nomad name for it. He supposed it was called something different now the Air Nomads were gone, but he hadn’t thought to ask. Not really the most important thing right now. Now he had to focus on finding this spot in the forest where the mooseyak tracks and debris were leading. The fact that there were tracks at all—especially as some of them looked human—suggested to him that he was not in fact dealing with angry spirits, and he was a little irritated that the excitable villagers apparently hadn’t considered this possibility and saved him some unnecessary worry. Still, he was the Avatar. Helping people was his job.

He just wished it wasn’t a job he had to do right this moment in the midst of a snowstorm. He couldn’t even use his glider to go a little faster and save him from trudging through the snow; visibility was too poor and the wind was beginning to erase the footprints. And all the snow was clouding his earthsense, making it difficult to tell where—

_Crunch_. White-hot pain flared across Aang’s left leg, just as he was catching sight of what looked like a ragged camp beneath a rock outcropping. _“What—”_ he gasped.

Another bolt of pain burst across the back of his head, and he knew no more.

~*~

“And the steamed dumplings, and the honeycakes, _and_ the fried squid . . .” Zuko’s frown deepened.   “Am I forgetting something? I’m forgetting something.”

“I don’t think you’re forgetting anything,” said Katara.

“No, I’m definitely forgetting something.”

“The oolong tea!”

Zuko rolled his eyes at his uncle. “Like you’d let me forget about that.”

“Seriously, Zuko,” said Katara, “I think you’ve got everything. As least as far as the food goes. It’s all taken care of.”

“Fine, food is taken care of.” Zuko ticked items off on his fingers. “So that’s decorations, fireworks, food . . .” He slapped his forehead. “Music! How could I forget about music?”

Katara frowned. “You don’t have anything planned?”

“Nothing!” He held his head in his hands. “This is a disaster! How can they possibly have dancing with no music? How will I be able to organize this? I’m terrible at anything to do with music!”

“Wow, okay, just hold on, Zuko.” Katara turned to give Iroh a beseeching look. “How about you just let your uncle take care of that . . .?” At Iroh’s nod, she said, “And you just come over here and have some food, because I doubt you’ve eaten anything all day.”

“But—”

“Eat. _Now.”_

Zuko nodded, red-faced, and let himself be led over to Iroh’s pile of cushions, where a substantial amount of food was still waiting.

Several dumplings and bowls of rice later, Zuko had managed to calm his breathing, and was even persuaded to have a cup of tea, while meanwhile Iroh was demonstrating tunes on the tsungi horn with the royal musicians.

“Things starting to look manageable yet?” asked Katara after a while.

“Yeah.” Zuko took another sip of tea. “Aang told you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he?”

She raised a challenging eyebrow. “You surprised he did?”

“I guess not,” he said. “Just, you don’t have to.”

She laid her hand over his. “We’re your friends, Zuko. This is what we do, so get used to it. And no offense, but in this case we really needed to.”

He was snorting into his cup of tea just as a servant appeared in front of him. “Fire Lord Zuko? The Avatar’s bison has returned, but the Avatar himself was not there.”

Zuko and Katara sat up straight. _“What?”_ said Zuko.

“Was there any message?” said Katara.

“None, Master Katara.”

Zuko stood. “We should go after him.” Even as he got up, his eyes trailed to the cloud of attendants now surrounding Iroh.

Katara followed his look. “If you feel you need to stay here . . .” she said.

“No,” he said. “I should go. Aang would do the same for me. I just don’t want to be unfair to Uncle.”

“Go!” called Iroh. “I can take care of the rest. You should be with your friends.”

Zuko and Katara exchanged a look, and left for the stables.

~*~

Aang’s eyes fluttered at the confusing succession of images and sounds accosting him.

Voices, sounding far too young for what he’d been expecting.

“ . . . what did you _do?_ That’s the Avatar you knocked out!”

“How was I supposed to know . . . told me to guard the mooseyaks!”

“ . . . all _your_ fault, Anko!”

An eerie white glow, with the faint outline of a person at its center.

_“Avatar Aang . . . your leg is broken and you are in danger of freezing. I will . . . your bison to . . . friends . . .”_

Bright light and heat, like the sun had touched the mountainside. Roar of rushing water. Familiar voices.

“What did you do to Aang! You’re coming back to the village to pay for what you’ve done!”

“Aang. Aang, can you hear me?”

Aang opened his eyes. Katara knelt beside him in the snow, her hands on his leg and encased in glowing water.

“Hurts,” he croaked.

“I have to set your leg,” she said. “I did what I could for your head and I’m trying to remove some of the swelling in your leg, but this is probably still going to hurt, and I’m sorry. Try to stay still.”

Aang nodded. He felt another wrenching pain, and fell back into relieved sleep.

~*~

Aang snuggled closer to Katara where they sat on a plush couch some servant had placed outside for important guests. He winced as the movement jarred his broken leg. To distract himself, he took a big bite from his bowl of rice and pickled vegetables. “Stop pacing, Zuko, it’s about to start,” he called.

Zuko turned and walked back over to them sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Dork,” said Katara. “Come sit down with us and get warm.” The night was chilly and damp, even with all the torches and lanterns lit and crowds of people in the square below meandering to enjoy the sights.

“I already am warm,” said Zuko. “Firebender.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then come keep us warm.”

Grunting, Zuko slid down beside Aang, his presence an instant furnace, chasing away the last of the chill Aang had been feeling ever since his misadventure in the mountain village. He reached his arm snugly behind Aang to rub Katara’s shoulder. “Better?”

She grinned. “Much.”

The first fireworks burst over the square, fierce and red, and the crowd cheered. The three watched the show in silence.

“Sorry you didn’t get to dance, Aang,” said Katara after a while.

Aang sighed. “Yeah, that would have been fun. It’s okay, there’ll be other times. I’m just glad you guys found me.”

“Me too,” said Zuko. “I can’t believe those kids knocked you out and just left you. You could have frozen to death!”

Aang shook his head. “They panicked,” he said softly. “I don’t think they knew what they were getting into and they didn’t know what to do when it went wrong. They’re just kids, and it didn’t look like they had much, out in the cold like that. They were probably just hungry.”

Zuko huffed but didn’t pursue it further.

“At least Appa was able to get us,” said Katara. “You must have had him with you if he knew to come back.”

Aang frowned. “I didn’t have him with me, though. At least not in the mountains where I was. It would have been too narrow for him to fly.” He thought about that until he remembered the shining white figure, whiter even than the blinding snow, and the words it had spoken. “There _was_ a spirit,” he said. “I thought I was imagining it, but it must have been able to go convince Appa to get help. Probably right there because of the solstice.”

Zuko and Katara stared at him. “So, does that mean we’ll have to put up with jokes from Sokka about ‘spirit maaagic’ saving the day?” said Katara.

Zuko shuddered. “Not if we don’t tell him,” he muttered.

They were quiet a little while longer, as the lanterns dimmed and the fireworks tapered off.

“Thanks for coming,” Zuko said at last. “I know—after Mai, I mean. I haven’t been the most fun person lately.”

Katara put one hand over the one he had draped over their shoulders. “I told you,” she said. “It’s what we do. Whatever you need, right Aang?”

Aang nodded firmly at Zuko’s slightly startled look. “That’s right. We love you, Zuko. We’re here for you.” He caught Zuko’s hand in his.

Zuko was still for a moment, then evidently made up his mind to relax. “Okay,” he said, leaning against Aang’s shoulder.

They remained like that until the sunrise came.


End file.
